Chapter 5 #2
My breath caught in my throat at how beautiful he was. I never dreamed a man could be so raw and masculine but still be so vulnerable.
Most of the men in my life worked out and looked after their bodies, but Pagan was ripped in every sense of the word.
He must’ve spent hours in the gym because his pecs bulged, along with his biceps, all of which were covered in sexy veins and colorful tattoos.
His six pack wasn’t inked, but his sides were painted with a plethora of skulls and demons that were fascinating.
Pagan was a work of art, perfect in every way, but I couldn’t help my thoughts wandering to the hidden scars under all those tattoos. He was the hardest man I’d ever met, but I sensed a fragility he didn’t let many people see, and it only added to my obsession.
I waited for him to leave the bathroom before downing my wine and getting out of the bath.
After drying off, I put on some yoga pants and a slouchy off-the-shoulder top and used the diffuser from the hairdryer to bring out my soft curls. When I was done, I spritzed some soft powdery perfume and then followed the smell of cooking.
The first thing I noticed was that he’d changed into a pair of grey sweatpants. His chest was still bare, but now his feet were too. He exuded pure masculinity, and my blood heated to boiling point.
My kitchen and lounge were one room separated by a breakfast bar with high stools where I usually ate, worked, and studied.
It was normally piled high with books and paperwork, but Pagan had cleared it and set out two place settings.
He stood at the stove, spatula in hand, his eyes tracking my every move.
“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he muttered.
My gaze flickered down his chest, then back up to his eyes, and I murmured, “Yeah.”
For a split second, he looked almost boyish, and then he nodded toward the breakfast bar. “Sit. I’ll bring your wine over.”
“I see you’ve made yourself at home,” I teased.
He smirked. “Good to know I didn’t spank all the sass outta ya. Means I’ll be in for more fun times in the future.”
I rolled my eyes at his back and huffed loudly.
“Aislynn,” he warned. “Be good.”
I let out a heavy sigh and decided it was probably best to stop poking the bear—at least for now.
“I’m just not used to having anyone in my space,” I explained. “Especially a guy.”
He glanced at me. “Didn’t you grow up with three brothers?”
“Yeah, but it was our family home. By the time I hit my teens, Callum and Donovan were gone.”
He prodded the food in the pan with the spatula. “Are you close to them?”
I leaned my elbows on the counter. “I used to be really close with Tadhg, but since he went off to race cars, I’ve gotten closer to Callum and Donovan.
Da’s passing weirdly brought us all closer together.
We all check in on each other a lot more since he died.
” I stole a quick glance at him and asked, “Do you get on with your brother?”
He began to plate the food up. “Don’t really know him.
Kidd seems okay, but we don’t have a relationship, more because of me than him.
The less I have to do with my sperm donor, the better, so it doesn’t make sense for me to build a relationship with my half-brother.
” He poured me a glass of wine, picked up a plate, and moved toward me, taking the seat to my right.
“I don’t concern myself with shit that doesn’t serve me, and believe me, babe, that old cunt never did a thing for me or mine.
Dunnie’s a damned loser. He’s gotta good woman, Gail, who helps out around the clubhouse in Cali, but he still fucks other bitches every chance he gets.
Dunno why Gail sticks around; she can do better than a deadbeat part-time insurance agent who’s never grown up in the sixty years he’s been on this Earth. ”
“Insurance agent?” I asked.
Pagan cut into the huge steak on his plate, his lips twitching.
“Yeah. He’s a club brother but doesn’t work for them in an official capacity.
I can only assume he’s a useless piece of shit who can’t be trusted with a position within the club.
Honestly, I don’t think he’s that well respected.
He’s a close bud of Big Daddy’s, so he probably uses the boss to stay relevant.
Who knows?” He lifted the fork to my mouth and ordered, “Eat.”
I opened my mouth and took the food from the fork, chewing slowly.
Pagan’s dark eyes dropped to my mouth, and he smiled.
“Why so pleased with yourself?” I questioned.
“I like lookin’ after you, baby,” he replied simply.
My heart fluttered, and I swallowed my food, watching as he cut himself a big piece of steak and shoveled it into his mouth.
“You’re a good cook,” I stated.
“Didn’t have much choice. Had to either find my way around a stove or survive on Ramen noodles and Pop-Tarts.
Never been a fan of processed shit, so I found an old cookbook, stole thirty bucks outta my mom’s wallet when she was comatose on smack to spend on food, and made my first spaghetti and homemade sauce.
It turned out good, and I caught the bug.
Most kids spend their green on computer games.
Mine went straight into the local grocery store’s cash register.
After a few weeks, I got friendly with the manager and took a job as a delivery boy after school and on weekends.
Earned my own money and got my staff discount, along with the use of a van.
” He chuckled softly. “Thought I was the big man.”
“It was good of the manager to take a chance on a young kid with no experience,” I murmured.
He smirked and forked another piece of steak into his mouth. “Oh, I dunno. She got somethin’ out of it too.”
It took a few seconds for the meaning behind his words to hit me. Pagan used my shocked silence as an opportunity to hold up another bite of steak and ordered, “Eat.”
I stared at his face, chewing and contemplating everything Pagan had confessed, and I wondered how he could be so matter-of-fact.
He was so calm and accepting, as if a mother neglecting her son for drugs was the norm, and a schoolboy getting a job to then have his manager take advantage of him was just another day at the office.
It wasn’t normal, and it wasn’t right. There was no bright side or silver lining in anything Pagan said. The fact was, he was abused as a child, and he’d grown up in circumstances that no kid should ever have to experience.
Of course he was damaged.
Who the hell wouldn’t be?
What really blew me away was that after all of that emotional pain and suffering, he was here in my apartment, feeding me, pouring my wine, and spoiling me, when all I wanted to do was put my arms around him and soothe his pain away.
And okay, so the circumstances that brought him here were weird. He’d fucked my boss up, then ghosted me, and then spanked my ass raw when I didn’t fall at his feet while making me feel things I never thought possible.
But I didn’t hate it.
Deep down, I loved it, needed it even.
My soul knew there wasn’t another man on this Earth who could make me feel the way he did.
So, it didn’t matter if I found him overbearing and bossy.
It didn’t matter if the violence that simmered underneath all the ink and muscles scared me a little (even though I’d never admit it).
It didn’t even matter that I knew one day he’d wreck me, or that I was going to give him the power to do it, because within a few days, he’d made me feel more alive than I ever had before.
My mammy told me something shortly after my da died that resonated.
We sat at the kitchen table, and I told her I was worried about how she’d carry on without him.
My mam looked at me with the saddest smile, and in her soft Irish accent, she’d said, “Daughter, if you’re lucky, one day you’ll find an epic love, just like I did with your daddy.
It’ll be your reason for getting up in the morning, for getting through the day, and for wanting to do it all over again the next day and the day after that.
It’ll fill your soul, and your hearts will beat together for a time.
However, my beautiful girl, sooner or later, you’ll lose it either by death or destruction, and again you’ll be changed because you’ll have to find a new reason to get up and find a different way to live your days.
You’ll be empty, but you’ll still be grateful you had it because, for a while, it was your reason for being. ”
I never understood it until Pagan walked into the party at the Lucky Shamrock and turned my world upside down.
“Will you tell me about your boys?” I asked.
He fed me again, smiling proudly. “They’re good kids.
Rex is sixteen now and a mini biker in the makin’—somethin’ I’m pretty sure the world’s not ready for.
Roman’s fourteen and the next Tom Brady, or so he believes, and I’m happy to feed into it ’cause I reckon my boys can do anythin’ they set their minds to. ”
“Does their mom feel the same way?” I asked carefully.
One side of his mouth hitched. “You can ask about her. If we’re gonna be together, you need to know everythin’. I would’ve told you before, but I didn’t wanna lay too much on you in one go.”
I chewed slowly, looking at him expectantly.
“Her name’s Breanna. Met her in a bar the month before I was due to go to San Diego for basic trainin’.
She was sweet, pretty, and fun. Everythin’ a twenty-year-old guy who’d never had anythin’ good in his life thought he needed.
I left, and she waited for me. It had already run its course when I knocked her up, but still, it happened, so I married her.
She moved into military housin’ a week after Rex was born and was pregnant with Rome six months later. ”
“That’s a lot of babies for young newlyweds,” I remarked.
His mouth twisted wryly. “I thought she was takin’ birth control.”
“Oh,” I murmured.